


Tragedy

by ProgenyToTheDark



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Protective Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:51:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgenyToTheDark/pseuds/ProgenyToTheDark
Summary: Michael Langdon isn't happy with what has become of HIS world, but he has one last card to play. He pulls Mallory from her perfect (Michael-free) world and demands that she pay for what she's done. He'll keep her forever so that no witch could ever have the chance to rise as Supreme again.He'll use his arsenal of manipulative tricks to get to Mallory, but then he'll realize that he's bitten off more than he can chew when she starts to grow on him emotionally.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up Witches!! So listen I'm not an expert writer, (In fact I'm probably a shitty writer.)But please enjoy this drabble, story, THING. And leave your kudos and comments!! I love feedback!❤ 
> 
> This will be kinda smutty, very ANGSTY, slow burn, type of deal if you squint hard enough.... I want to delve deeper into their emotional backrounds first and then unravel THEM. Also, the chapters are relatively short and I try to make them that way so that it flows better. (///) Means a P.O.V. shift.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> P.s. This has a sort of Persephone x Hades type of feel to it, but idk we'll see how the whole underworld theme plays out.

Chapter 1: Unmade  
                    
When he finds her, his heart is beating loudly in his chest like a drum for war. She was fading into the void- like the world around him. 

He quickly takes her out of the black bath- soaking wet-and runs his frantic hands over her pale face down to her bloody abdomen. She had already completed her task... But Michael held on.

"We're not done yet."  
"We're not done yet."  
"We're not done...yet."

He says repeatedly, pressing his bloodied forehead to hers. He could see (in her mind) the moment of his death, her new memories, and all of his worst fears being realized. His human life was now un-made.

Cordelia's plan had worked, Mallory had come into the outpost like his personal angel of death -undetected.

But he would not let her dreams, or her future world come to pass. Cordelia may have won the battle but he would win the war.

He'd escape to the one place he'd still have dominion over, a place where time itself was non-existent, and matter was a variable he could so easily change. He places Mallory's wet and lifeless body next to his and whispers his last incantation,

"Descensum."

When he opens his eyes, he is surrounded by the creatures of perdition. They begin to crawl over Mallory's corpse with their filthy bodies searching for any semblance of life to torture.

"NO!" Michael snaps, lifting Mallory up from the ground before they could bring any harm to her-and her unclaimed body. He carries her in his arms, adjusting her small frame across his chest. Most of them dissapear too afraid to face him, while the others trail behind them tearing the hem off of Mallory's dress. "Back off!" He yells. But they persisted to pester him.  
Annoyed, (and with a deeply rooted anger) he stomps his foot firmly on the marbled floor startling all of the putrid mongrels away in fear. 

He looks down at his captive, adjusting her head to cradle it in the crook of his neck. He let her long caramel locks cascade off of his shoulder, and with every sharp stride they gently grazed the small of his back. The deeper he ventured into the black-tiled hallways, the heavier she became. He knew her life was beginning to hang in the balance.

It wouldn't be long before she would return to him.    

     ///

Mallory leaves Cordelia to reconnect with her beloved Misty, after Nan brought her back from the horrific pain she had repeatedly endured in the netherworld. She retreated back to her old room- hearing the sound their harmonious laughter warmed the walls of her heart. 

Cordelia was alive. Her sisters were safe. Everything was as it should be. Never again did she want to see them suffer and die at the hands of a tyrant. She swore she would defy anyone who dared to threaten them again. 

Her plans to keep them safe were already in motion-by changing Queenie's thoughts on staying in that cursed hotel. If there were any consequences to that she would gladly bear them.

For Mallory, returning was a bit nostalgic. The academy was her home, and the girls were like her family. Of course, she would have to wait for her dear Coco to enroll and for a chance to bring Madison back. But the thought of seeing her coven fully restored and at peace made her feel an inexplicable joy.

Still, there was something about all of it that also made her feel, off. 

It was the way she had achieved this happiness that bothered her, and the way her mind would wander back to replay the awful memories of a past that never was. 

The scene that was most engraved into her mind was that of the interview between herself and Michael. 

Back when Michael told her that she was afraid of accepting who she was. She would have offered some kind of riposte, if his statement hadn't stabbed her in the heart the way it had.

It was more than just Cordelia's identity spell clawing its way out of her. He was right. 

She had no idea, when she joined the coven that She'd be made supreme one day, but she knew the gravity of what that meant for her and her future. 

Her gifts were unparalleled. Always changing. Ever since she was a child she defied the natural order of things-and that was something she could never truly accept about herself, until Robichaux's. 

But being a Supreme meant so much more than just having the talent, it meant leading the coven through the dark ages of this world and using their manifestations for good.

But was she good? Could she hold off evil like Cordelia had? Could she be the beacon of light for her sisters?

Killing Michael made her feel conflicted, guilty, of something she had denied about herself back at the outpost.

"I don't have any dark places."

"Really?"

He had crawled under her skin. She remembers trying her best not to seem unworthy to him, his overwhelming presence, and the growing need to recoil from his touch.

As the memories begin to envade her mind, she feels weightless, like earth's gravity has stopped holding her to the ground. 

Panicked to be feeling something so strange, she lays her body down onto the cool wooden floor. Her eyes focus on the ceiling, but the walls are spinning hard and fast.

A voice calls to her, and she feels something grab her hand to pull her down past the floor boards.

A panicked chill runs up and down her spine making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. But she can't pull back- her senses are breached and suddenly, she's engulfed by the smell of rotting flesh and ash.


	2. Arise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys Sorry for the short chapter I'm working on the others as I post. I'm so thankful for every kudos and every comment you guys have no idea!! ❤  
> Thanks for liking my writing.❤
> 
> Also if it looks kind of wierd I'm so SORRY. I write on my phone and read on mobile.

///

Chapter 2: Arise

Michael enters a grandiose room with 'outpost' Mallory still sleeping soundly under his chin. At the center stood a massive black staircase, and a dimly lit pit of embers.  
"Perfect." 

He crouches to lay her down gently at the base of the staircase. Her hair seemed to have grown in length since crossing the netherworld- the long caramel strands spilled gracefully behind her head like a halo. 

He repositions her arms to stay at her sides, and sits down on the last step glaring at her and her tattered outpost garments. He detested them-a constant reminder of his failure. 

Michael scoffs, "Purple would have suited you much better..." He smirks observing in just how small her body truly was in comparison to himself and the room "...little witch."

He traces his finger over her delicate cheekbone wiping away the specks of blood left behind, admiring the crimson color on her ivory skin. "Or perhaps..."

A loud clattering noise is heard just above him on the stairs. He whips his head around quickly and his eyes meet two small childlike creatures. They watched him from behind the iron railings their glossy eyes glued to his captive sprawled out on the marbled floor. 

"You two will do well to head words." He says firmly. "She is not YOURS..."

One of them bows lowly in response, while the other seems too preoccupied-staring at Mallory's delicious corpse to pay attention to his warning. 

In the blink of an eye, Michael's rough hands are at the creature's throat, squeezing it with all his might. 

The other mongrel vanishes in a puff of smoke, too frightened by how fast Michael transmuted up the flight of stairs to stick around.

"Did. I. stutter?" He grunts loudly, as the filthy cretin caught in his fist squrims violently-speaking it's black speech loudly to his face.

Michael tightens his grip.

"You speaking to me in our mother tounge won't deter my plans to kill you." There was a pulsing in the air around them as the creature continued to  speak, "She is not of this realm- she will perish." 

"She, is none of your concern." He replies. 

The air stops vibrating and Michael stills- shocked to hear Mallory take her first ragged breath from below the steps. He turns slowly and releases his hold on the creature, letting it fall directly into the pit of fire below. The engorged flame devours it's meal, giving the room a haunting glow.

His eyes focus now on her. Her steady breathing, and the pink flush creeping over her pale face- perfect indicators that she was beginning to cross the line into the netherworld.

He descends from his makeshift pedestal, rakes his long fingers through his hair and over his body, changing his ratty clothes into something more elegant and at the caliber of the realm.

"You've kept me waiting long enough little witch..." He whispers, extending his hand to grab for hers.

"...Arise."


	3. Bittersweet

Chapter 3: Bittersweet

Mallory is drowning, she's drifting deeper and deeper unable to open her eyes. Her body paralyzed, and on fire. Lungs burning, with every desperate gasp for air.

She hears a fire crackling near by and loud arguing voices echoing around her. 

Exasperated, and hungry for a deep clean breath, she inhales sharply forcing air into her lungs. A silence befalls the room after the sound of sharp footsteps stop just by her ear.

"You've kept me waiting long enough little witch..." Mallory's body jolts at the sound of Michael's voice.

She fights with her heavy eyelids and her desperate need to scream. Her honey colored eyes rip open, and finally come face to face with her worst fear.

"...Arise."

His hand wraps itself around hers- without warning- in a perfectly fitted black velvet glove. She was too overthrown by his presence to refuse his help. Somehow, his blanketed touch still made her skin crawl.

He pulls her up hard and fast toward his face. When he releases her, she takes several steps backward. Her eyes glaze over and she begins to tremble..."Michael?" 

At the sound of his name, his pursed lips curve at the edges. "Surprised to see that I'm not stuck to the underside of a range-rover Mallory?" He sneers. She moves further away from him instinctively.

Mallory begins to survey her surroundings searching for the nearest exit. She sees that the room is identical to the one from the outpost, only much larger. She looks down at her bloodied clothes, the itchy grey material was all too familiar. 

This can't be happening.

"Where am I?" She asks cautiously.

He raises an eyebrow at her and his coy expression fades. "You don't know?" He laughs, pacing infront of her as he did before. 

"Why, this is my new world Mallory."   
There is a darker undertone in his voice that makes her visibly shake. "Welcome to Hell." 

Mallory's heart thrashes around violently in her chest. "Tsk. What's the matter little witch?" He taunts. "How does it feel, to be torn away from the life you bilt?" He smiles when he moves toward her and sees how persistent she is in keeping a safe distance. 

Her expression changes and he delights in seeing her this flabbergasted.

"I bet it's eating you up inside, seeing me alive..." He smirks. "Bittersweet, don't you think..."

"How?" She pipes up letting precious tears spill from her eyes. He comes within an inch of her face. She flinches when he raises his hand up to her rosy cheek. "My dear girl, I'm the devil's son." As soon as his hand makes contact with her porcelain skin she takes off- running through an open archway as fast as her legs would allow. There had to be a way to return to the surface.

"Wait. No. Don't go..."  
He laughs to himself and begins to pace back and forth. "Tsk. Tsk."

The sound of her huried footsteps comes full circle and suddenly she's back where she was- infront of him. He turns on his heel to face her with a shitfaced grin.

"Want to try that again?" He says smugly. "What do you want?!" She yells. He stays stoic, watching the desperation eat away at her. "Revenge." "For what you and your filthy pack of witches did to me."

"You leave them out of this!" She pleads, tears still spilling out of her tired eyes. "...I-I'm the one who killed you." She sputters falling to her knees. A loud sob escaping her mouth. 

He leans over her whimpering body and tucks her long hair back behind her ear, lifting her chin up gently.  "I know you did," he forces her to look up at his strikingly blue eyes as they peer into her earthly orbs. "I can still feel it." "I can feel it in my bones standing here, right now." She winces at the touch of his wandering hand.

"You did a nasty job of it, but you managed to erase me from your pathetic human realm." 

"Why am I here?!" She cries. Michael lets her chin go harshly. "Because little witch, I'm a vengeful Motherfucker..." He walks over by the fire with his hands behind his back. "And you.... intrigue me."


End file.
